


Devil's Snare

by AlchemyMerchant



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Mentions of past abuse, Mystery, Neighbor!Jacob, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Southern Gothic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-08-08 00:32:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16419023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlchemyMerchant/pseuds/AlchemyMerchant
Summary: Sure there are a couple of odd folks in this county, but they aren't hurting anybody!...Right?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm both scared and excited for this fic. I'm hoping I can pull this one off though I do have a habit of biting off more than I can chew. Credit for the neighbor AU goes to tribunal (check out her fic 'the spirit catches you' if for some reason you haven't yet!), although this plot and character are of my own creation with inspirations from shows like Twin Peaks and Castle Rock. Enjoy!
> 
> Chapter Song: Lonesome Town - Ricky Nelson

It wasn’t where she thought she’d be, growing up. Teenage Rook would have been horrified right about now, the sight before her being so far from the picturesque city life she’d once dreamt of. Of course, picturesque to her at the time involved a huge studio apartment, at least 5 pets of different varieties, and Leonardo DiCaprio… So really, teenage Rook had no grasp on reality whatsoever.

However, even jaded mid-twenties Rook, living in a pathetic puttering mess of a car and following her mother's footsteps a little too closely would agree that _this_ was most definitely _not_ where she'd end up.

And present Rook? Well… She was trying to keep an open mind, at least.

The cabin wasn’t perfect, not even nice, a fact that didn’t change no matter how optimistic she tried to be. The deck was noticeably warped and rotten, parts of the railing missing or broken. The front door could probably barely keep the wind out, which was more than most of the windows could claim, them being boarded up as they were. A whole ecosystem probably lived in the walls and she’d be very surprised if the roof was completely intact. There was also the issue of multiple deaths having occurred on the property, so it was _probably_ haunted. The ghosts she could live with, but she was getting an exterminator out here as soon as possible.

All in all, it was a mess, but not an unmanageable one. The house had been cheap with working plumbing, no major foundation issues, and most importantly- it was in the absolute middle of nowhere. So Rook was going to suck it up, hunker down, and work hard for once in her life. She didn’t have much of a choice at this point anyway, most of the settlement money went into this dump with enough left to both get it livable and survive for a while without too much struggle. She was determined to ignore that voice in the back of her head that railed against any kind of long-term commitment. Though that didn’t always work, at least she had Daisy with her to ease her anxieties.

“You’re gonna be happy here, aren't you?” Rook cooed to the German Shepard by her side as they stood outside their new home. Daisy panted up at her, always happy to be addressed. “All the grass you can eat, trees to mark, squirrels to chase…” The woman continued, reaching down to let her off the wholly unnecessary chain. Like the good girl she was, she didn’t shoot off like a rocket into the forests surrounding them once freed. “Go on then,” Rook had to encourage, confident she wouldn’t go far or get into too much trouble. With that, Daisy began her slow but thorough exploration of the perimeter as her owner dared to enter the house. The door opened with a loud groan though stayed on its hinges.

That was one thing that still worked at least. And really, it wasn’t so bad on the inside- especially now since the previous owners’ things had all been moved out.

The air was stuffy, smelling faintly of mold and something burnt, probably lighter now in the cool autumn than it might smell in the sweltering Montana summers. Sunlight shone through every crack in the boarded windows and the back door by the kitchen, illuminating dust particles circulating gently in the air and an intensely scratched up floor. Scars from years of hosting small families and old crones alike, no doubt.

At least it was a fairly open floor plan, the kitchen and living room having been combined with a hallway leading to one bedroom and a bathroom. When she originally toured the place with her real estate agent, she imagined just turning the bedroom into a place for her art and putting her bed in the living room. Now that she was seeing the place again, she just couldn't picture it. The bedroom was stiflingly small with only a single window- she'd go crazy trying to paint in there.

Rook toured the place slowly, taking in every nook and cranny that she missed previously. She tried to match every con with a pro. So the floorboards creaked horribly, but the fireplace was nice. There was hardly any closet space, but she liked the tall A-line ceiling. No cable or internet out here, but she didn’t consume much of either in the first place. Outside sources would need to be brought in for some, like the windows needed replacing, the funny smells checked, and pest control called. The entire place needed a scrub down and there were a lot of little things that needed fixing but she could do that herself. Honestly… it was daunting, but she was beginning to feel some excitement, a smile forming on her lips as she heard playful barks in the backyard.

So maybe her future wasn’t _so_ bleak.

After the mental checklist came the decoration planning. The second-hand couch she’d bought off of craigslist right before the move would look real nice in front of the fireplace, but she still needed a kitchen table and some rugs to hide all these scratches. Should she buy wall art or make her own? And on that note, where was she going to paint anyways? Because Rook _was_ going paint again, after years of-

Well. Just after a long time.

Daisy ran to her when she exited the house, probably alerting every creature in a one-mile radius with how loud the door was. "I'm going to have to check you for ticks later, aren't I?" Rook sighed with a wry smile, picking a leaf out of her girl's fur as they walked to the car together.  The old Explorer was packed with bags of personal belongings, supplies, and things too precious to entrust to the movers, who were still making their way through the windy roads of the Whitetail Mountains. She paused just as she reached in the back to grab the bag of much-needed cleaning supplies, a flash of red metal peeking through the sparse trees just north of her cabin.

A pickup truck.

Her neighbor was home.

Secluded out in the middle of some mountains in a relatively low population county, it came as a bit of surprise that she’d even have one. Rook had approved the original showing specifically because she thought there _wouldn't_ be any neighbors. Mrs. Drubman (”Oh call me Adelaide, honey!”) had reassured her up and down that he would be no bother to her. In fact, he’d probably go out of his way to avoid her- or so she'd been told.

His reclusive nature was something the uncomfortably open woman had declared ‘a damn shame’ with a smarmy grin. Rook tried three times to steer the conversation back to the cabin before just letting the older woman get it all out. And she thought the car ride up discussing her ‘boy-toy’ was bad. Nice woman, but never tell her you were thinking about getting into yoga.

So far, none of what Adelaide had told her was wrong (although she had hopes about that downward dog thing…). Though their view of each other was almost enough for her to pass on the place originally, there hadn’t been a peek or peep of him the couple of times she’d visited. Admittedly, the fact that there _was_ someone near made her feel a tad bit safer. After all, Rook had seen way too many horror films to not entertain the idea of random psychotic murderers breaking into her secluded woodland home. Now there was at least an old cranky veteran she could run to if a couple in bunny masks knock on her door.

…

"Unless _he's_ the psycho killer," she mumbled dramatically to Daisy. She liked to think the following sneeze was a laugh, though it was most probably caused by the patch of dirt the dog had been sniffing for a minute straight. Shaking her head, Rook finally ripped her gaze from the truck and pulled the bag free. Daisy continued to glue herself to her owner's side, even as they went back into the house where it was decidedly less fun. It was still early in the afternoon, there was plenty of time to get some cleaning done before the movers arrive.

And plenty of time there was. It was hours before Rook found herself out by her truck again, fingers pruned, back aching, and the crackling in her ear forming the start of a headache.

_“…lost…can’t…woods…”_

Brows furrowed in worry and frustration at the poor cell service, she glared at the sky like it being cloudy made much of a difference. “I can’t hear you, you’re breaking up. Did you say you were lost?” The question was practically groaned it out, one hand squeezing her shoulder to try and ease the tension.

The mover sounded equally tired through the choppy reception. _“…tomorrow…noon…rain”_

“Look I- All I got out of that is you’ll arrive noon tomorrow?”

He responded but it continued to be nothing but a jumbled mess. Sighing, she hoped he understood her as she said her goodbyes and hung up. She knew the cell service here was poor but now that she was by herself with the woods rapidly darkening around her, it was a little more concerning. Rubbing her arms through her jacket to ease the goosebumps rising, the woman looked down at her sweet companion inhaling the dog chow she thankfully had the forethought to pack. Picking up the two folded peanut butter sandwiches that constituted as her own dinner, she hopped into the back seat once more. "Looks like another night camping out, puppy dog."

Daisy graced her with a brief huff into her bowl but didn’t seem nearly as concerned as Rook. Of course, she never understood any of the horror movies her owner watched, so what did she have to worry about?

The sun was almost completely gone by the time they were done. She had wanted to enjoy her first night looking at the stars but the clouds, flashes of lightning, and distant echoes of thunder warned of incoming rain. That was just as well, she really didn’t want to stand out in the dark tonight anyways.

Daisy and her curled up in the back seat, bundled in the emergency blanket. “You’re lucky I love you,” Rook grumbled as the German Shepard- small and lithe for her breed, but still a sizable dog- settled directly on top of her legs. A smelly tongue lashed out to kiss her arm where it rested on the dip of her waist. The ache in her back was hardly relieved by the cold hard seat she lay across, but it was a bed that knew her well.

Despite the blanket and Daisy's warm body covering hers, there was a chill in the air that couldn't be fought. The prickling of her skin, like the raised hackles of a scared animal, was hard to ignore. But she was tired.

So tired...

—

Once-distant thunder now clapped loudly above them. Rook woke with a gasp, mind blurry and ears ringing from the rain pounding on the roof of their shelter. Little light poured through the windows.

Night time still, then. She almost relaxed for sleep once more when she heard it.

A low rumble by her feet that told of Daisy's discomfort, that and... and a faint thumping sound coming from beyond their little nest, barely heard. Behind her.

"Move," whispered Rook, nudging her girl with her legs. She did as she was asked, though it was hardly more helpful- being that she trodded over her owner's prone body to look out the window above Rook's head. "Brat-!" The dog stumbled as she was pushed, catching herself on the seat and car door, though she didn't take her eyes off of whatever had captured her attention outside.

Pushing herself on her elbows, the woman rolled herself over and raised her body enough to take a peek, Daisy panting loudly above her head and fogging up the glass.

Her eyes strained as she squinted. It was hard to see through the drop covered glass, thick downpour, and an assortment of trees, but she could just make out a dim cold light coming from her neighbors. The light barely illuminated a figure at her neighbor's house, moving rhythmically in place like-

A flash of lightning. A brief glimpse of the figure, a man, knee deep in a hole of his own making.

 

 

...Like he was digging.


	2. La La Land

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't fit everything that I wanted to into this chapter but it didn't feel right going past the last point.
> 
> Chapter Song: Clap Hands - Tom Waits

She didn’t feel good come morning. Her hands shook from lack of sleep and lack of food other than peanut butter and bread, maybe a bit from the cold and some leftover fear as well. The tap water in the house tasted oddly sweet and she couldn’t manage to down more than a couple of sips.

The movers came earlier than promised, thankfully, trying to beat another onslaught of rain that was warned by the overcast sky. They looked at her odd, they looked at her house odd, as if they were deeming her crazy for choosing this shack in the middle of nowhere. Rook didn’t blame them, honestly, the motivation and optimism she’d had yesterday being nearly depleted. She was both relieved and nervous when they left, leaving her with a hardly secure house now filled with haphazardly arranged boxes and old furniture.

There wasn’t much energy left in her to start unpacking, so she took a nap with Daisy on her couch until the afternoon. Her eyes ached when she woke with the cold sun high in the sky, shining through filtering clouds, though not nearly as much as her stomach. As much as she wanted to just try to enjoy her new home, there was still shopping to be done.

Rook avoided looking at her neighbor's house as she climbed into her car.

_She hushed Daisy’s slow growl, the prelude to a barking fit. The dog shook from the effort of keeping it in her chest and the storm that raged around them. It was hard to comfort her when her hands were just as shaky but she moved her fingers through her fur anyways._

_The neighbor didn’t stop digging for a whole hour. She didn’t dare watch more than a couple of minutes but the sharp cut of the shovel meeting wet earth echoed in her head. When the noise stopped, she dared peek again. He was still there. Not digging, not moving, not even dragging anything in. Just… Standing there, at the edge of the hole he dug._

She couldn’t shake the feeling like she’d seen something she really shouldn’t have.

But there hadn't been a body, despite what her overactive imagination tried to fill this… this not-grave with, no nefarious deed to witness in the first place. So she was going to try and let it go- there hadn’t been any plans on interacting with him anyways, but maybe now she’d try a little harder to keep it that way.

—

There was a little diner just a mile from Fall’s End- a hot spot apparently, according to Adelaide. Contrary to what she’d been told, there were only four cars parked out front when she pulled in- one of which being a police cruiser. Maybe none of the county residents wanted to be caught by the rain today, though it was late in the afternoon by the time she’d arrived and not even drizzling.

The building itself was modestly sized, mostly made from old painted bricks and wood. It looked like there were some recent renovations done, what with the newly put in large windows inhabited by obnoxious neon signs and an attempted 50s aesthetic that didn't quite work out for a place called _Grub_ _'n_ _Stuff._

“Hope they do takeout orders,” Rook sighed as she tied Daisy up to the car post. “You be nice, I’ll be back with the goods soon.”

She paused just as she reached the door, a whole board full of posters situated on the opposite side of the building to where she'd parked. The ones not fully pinned down flapped noisily as she approached, messily placed over each other and despite that, completely taking up most of the space. There were some dated job openings and diner memo's here and there but...

The vast majority were missing person posters. There had to be at least twenty, some so old that the paper was yellowed and weathered, the ink smudging with watermarks in such a way that she wouldn't be able to recognize the person in the photo if she needed to. Others looked fresh, newly tacked on top of the older ones. She honestly didn't know which bothered her more.

Rook retreated back to the front door, the faces she promised herself to try and remember already blurring in her mind like how the ink blurred the faces of those long lost.

A bell that was far too loud for the quiet atmosphere rang out when she entered. Nearly every eye in the joint, few though they may be, shot to her. When there was no warm greeting or even a spare glance from the only worker behind the counter, she awkwardly shuffled inside, feeling every bit like the outsider she was. An assortment of pleasant smells hit her as the low chatter of the diner turned back to normal, thankfully just in time for everyone to miss the low begging growl of her stomach.

The teenage boy looked out of it as she approached, pronounced bags beneath his eyes and the sag on his mouth reminding her a bit of Droopy. He didn’t even look at her when she came to stand in _front_ of him. “Um,” she started, peeking at whatever on the wall captured his interest so thoroughly. A clock- he was staring at a clock. Typical teenager, then. She remembered the days when she begged time would move faster. Now all she wanted was for it to slow down, and she was barely 30. “Excuse me?” She tried gently. His movements were slow, as if underwater, moving his head towards her but strangely keeping his eyes on the clock.

“What time is it?” He spoke, sounding normal for the most part, despite looking high out of his mind.

Hesitantly, with her brows furrowed, Rook glanced back at the clock.

It was digital.

“It’s 3:49,” she spoke slowly as if to match his speed. A forced laugh left her, “You didn’t drive here with that eyesight, did you?” The joke didn’t seem to take, but it seemed to knock him out of the odd trance he was in.

“Oh,” the boy blinked. “What can I get you?”

He really needed to lay off whatever he was smoking. Rook gave him a strained smile, “Just a menu for now. Do you pack things to go?”

“Right! Right, menu-” He scurried to get one from under the counter a few feet over, “And, uh, yeah we do. Just let me know, okay?”

She accepted the menu and sat down on a cushy yet ripped stool, relieved. “Sure thing.”

It was a few minutes later as she was deciding between the BLT or a burger that a figure slid onto the seat next to her. A man with a cup of coffee in hand and a badge pinned to his jacket, with dark slicked back hair and a shiner on his left eye that looked like it hurt like hell to receive. Rook tensed, resisting the urge to sigh. She just wanted to eat.

“You’re new. Just traveling through, or…?” He had on a rather confident smile.

“Just moved into a cabin in the mountains, actually.” She offered the information hesitantly, still glancing over the menu. Curiously, there was another missing person photo printed on the back of it. Whoever ran the place must be either very invested in these cases or knew one of the missing people personally.

The man rested his elbows on the table with his body angled towards her, ignoring her blatantly closed off body language. “Ah, you must be the woman who moved into Esther’s place. Was wondering who bought that du-”

“Pratt,” came a scolding voice. Rook looked to the source, seeing a stern looking woman dressed similarly in a deputies uniform. She was pretty tall, though her intimidating gait might have had added a few inches to her.

So now she was sandwiched between two officers. Ones who apparently knew exactly where she lived. If she were uncomfortable before, she was doubly so now. “Come on, Hudson. She’s got eyes. ‘Sides, no one who chooses to live out there is gonna be soft-hearted.” The man nudged Rook, “Like she said, my names Pratt. Staci Pratt. You can call me Staci- unless you’re planning on saying my name with contempt like Hudson here.”

“Quinn Rook. Just call me Rook,” she offered up as politely as she could, accepting his hand in a shake. “And I’m not offended. The place… Well, it needs work.”

Staci looked at Hudson with a victorious smile. She rolled her eyes, “Deputy Joey Hudson,” the dark haired officer introduced. “The park rangers normally handle basic calls up there unless there’s illegal activity going on, but you let us know if anyone gives you trouble in town.” With that, she grabbed her jacket from the hook on her booth and shrugged it on. She gave Staci a nod, “I’ll be in the car. Don’t take too long this time, yeah?” It was sighed out, and there was no chance to reply or thank her as she walked briskly out of the diner.

“She likes to act all tough, but don’t let her fool you- she makes smiley faces with syrup on her pancakes.” He winked mischievously at Rook, who finally cracked a smile. The cops seemed laid back here, at least.

Of course, leave it up to Rook to try and get on their bad side. Tapping the back of her menu, where the black and white photo of a boy named Freddy Wilson was smiling, she cautiously broached the subject.

“Mind if I ask what the deal is with all of these missing people? I noticed there were a bunch covering the notice board outside.”

Staci’s smile dropped. Something crossed his expression, something she couldn't name but it put her on edge just the same. Finally, he heaved one massive sigh. “Unfortunate cases. Some people just can't handle the woods.” He avoided meeting her eye as he said this, bringing his mug of probably lukewarm beverage to his lips.

“They weren’t kidnapped, or…?”

Tentatively, he dropped the mug, licking the remaining liquid from his lips as his fingers drumming against the pure white ceramic. “There’s rarely a suspect involved. Mostly it’s just teens who think they know their way around, and then they get caught out by the weather or a wild animal and…” He eyed her for a moment, “It’s rough up there. You brush up on your ‘mountain living’ before moving in?”

She shrugged, “I may have bought a survival book or two. My truck can handle the snow just fine and I don’t plan on hunting.”

The man looked… unimpressed. One brow raised as if to say, 'that's it?'.

Rook avoided his gaze, a flush coursing up her neck. “You should stop by the rangers station. They know everything there is to know about the mountains and the beasts that inhabit it. Plus, they’re still trying to give away all the pamphlets they made a couple of years ago so you’d be doin’ them a favor."

He stood up and reached into his coat pocket, “Heath, put the meal on our tab, would you? I got your tip.” The kid nervously bounded up, looking jittery in Staci’s presence though he seemed happy to take the 6 dollar tip. “I better not keep her waiting,” his smile was less easy going but didn’t border on unfriendly.

“It was nice meeting you both,” she called politely as he began for the door.

He turned on his feet to wave but then paused, a contemplative look coming over his face as his hand dropped from the air to tentatively rub at the area around his blackened eye. “Listen. I know Hudson said the park rangers normally have got you covered up there but… Jacob Seed…”

Rook cocked her head as he trailed off, the name sounding familiar like it was one she really should know. "Who's Jacob Seed?"

"Your neighbor."

Her breath caught silently, and when she looked to meet his eyes again she hoped he couldn't see the anxiety that must have flashed in them. "Oh... Of course. What about him?"

He shifted in place. “Well… Here, Heath, gimme a pen and a napkin.” He took a second to write something down, cursing when the pen ripped the thin fabric he wrote on. When he stood and slid it over to her, it wasn’t with a wink or a suggestive look, but rather a hard-eyed stare. “My number. Don’t mean to freak you out or nothin’, but just… watch yourself around him, okay? And call me if something catches your interest.”

She nodded sight after remembering to exhale, heart beginning to thump against her ribcage in earnest. Last night was on the tip of her tongue, but for a reason currently lost to her, it never spilled over her lips. “Will do, deputy.” She said instead, voice so steady she almost fooled herself.

He took his leave after that, and she was left staring at the glass door, the open sign clacking against it as it rocked on its hook. It was warm in the diner but the chill from last night returned to raise her skin.

…

“Um… You ready to order?”

___

Daisy already had her breakfast, but she’d never say no to some leftover sausage. Rook and her sat on the side of an old dirt road just outside of Fall’s End, enjoying their meals with some light tunes as the red and orange trees swayed around them.

“I should have said something,” she despaired into her burger.

Her dog was licking the remains of her afternoon treats from her chops, cocking her head to Rook as she spoke. “Don’t look at me like that. He’s probably just… troubled. I don’t want to bring heat on him for no reason.”

She took another bite from the dripping ball of grease in her hands as she shooed the always hungry girl away from her fries. “I know it was weird, okay? But he’s allowed to be weird, as long as he’s not weird in our yard. And besides, ‘S not like he was doing anything illegal!”

Daisy huffed as her attempts were thwarted, curling up in the passenger seat and resting her head just near the Styrofoam box that held all of her desires. “Oh _wow_ ," she said with her mouth full, "He dug a hole in his _own_ yard! Don’t blow it out of proportion, Daisy.”

There was little to no reaction at the accusation, of course, except for a perk of the ears as her name was mentioned. “You know, as you do… In the middle of the night. During a storm…” Rook paused eating once more, lowering her food from her mouth. A sigh escaped her as Daisy’s nose began twitching anew. “I should have said something.”

She found that she couldn’t stomach the rest of her meal, and the drive into the town was spent vowing to ask about him if she saw the deputies again. Maybe she'd even give Staci a call when she got home, though the thought of willingly reaching out to a cop almost put her off the idea entirely.

The town was small, almost impressively so for such a large county. It mainly held shops of different varieties (there were _two_ antique shops right across from each other), but it also housed a bar, a church, and an assortment of houses. Like the diner, there weren’t many people out. In fact, the only figures she saw were a couple of hooded kids sitting on an old rusted swing set in someone's yard.

That is, of course, until she rounded the corner, slowing to a crawl at the odd sight before her. A delivery truck, filled to the brim with unmarked boxes. Two worker men stood at the ramp of it as a line of people formed behind. There were at least twenty, maybe thirty people with an assortment of parked cars surrounding the area. Curious, Rook pulled over to park as well. “Stay,” she mumbled to Daisy, who sat with sharp attention as her owner went to join the mass of people.

“Hey! Don’t cut the line, girlie!” One of the men at the far back snapped at her as she walked past the queued people.

She startled, her head whipping back, “I’m just- I’m not getting in line,” she managed to get out, scurrying forward with hunched shoulders to the men unloading the truck. People stared at her with differing expressions, some like they’d never seen anyone outside their small bubble, and she was really wishing she’d never left the car. But, she was used to curiosity killing her. “Excuse me?” She called up to the workers, her hands shoved into her jacket pockets.

The man closest to her on the left looked down at her, looking as uninterested as can be. “Wait yer turn. Ain’t gonna serve ya first just 'cause ya think yer pretty.”

Rook balked. Her brows furrowed, lips thinning as she tried to remain as polite as she could to someone so rude. “I was just going to ask what it is that you’re handing out.”

The workers paused to look at each other. “Supplies,” the heftier one on the right said finally, setting another stack in front of their current customer.

“Supplies… for what?”

Lefty let out a disbelieving scoff, scratching his scraggly blond beard as his partner sighed. “Got any clue where yer at, darlin'? This is _doomsday country_.” He checked something off on his clipboard as another man took away with several boxes of… ‘supplies’.

Her anger faded at his answer, the men and their shitty attitudes forgotten from her mind as she looked back to the gathered people. “Oh… I see.” Her response was whispered, but she doubted they cared as she left without thanks or a proper goodbye.

So these were all ‘doomsday preppers’? Vaguely, she remembered a mention of bunkers from Adelaide on one of their trips up to the mountains, but it had been an offhanded comment that she couldn’t remember for the life of her.

She tried not to catch any more attention as she walked back to her car, curiosity sated though not fully satisfied. The feeling of eyes on her like a heavy, overwhelming pressure all over. _They can believe whatever they want_ , she told herself, but something about this atmosphere was… oppressive.

With her eyes on her feet, she didn’t notice the woman step in front of her until her skirt and dirt covered loafers came into view. Stopping quick, Rook nearly jumped back as she glanced up at a wrinkled and serene smiling face. The older woman- probably in her 60s- regarded her calmly, blue eyes piercing right through her to her core. Thin yet wide lips parted.

“The end is nigh.”

There was no time to respond, not that she knew _how to_ in the first place, because shouts broke out from behind her. She whirled around to find a fistfight breaking out between two customers near the front, wild and uncoordinated swings coming from two burly men dressed in varying shades of camo. She shifted on her feet closer to her car as people intervened to put a stop to it.

Rook glanced back to find the graying lady still looking peaceful despite the chaos and the heavy threat of her words. Like a fish, the younger woman opened her mouth for some- any- polite response, but all that came out was a strangled sound. Giving up, she forced an awkward smile before skirting around her and retreating back to where Daisy was now barking wildly. There was no hesitance as she started the car and backed out of there until she was free from the sudden pocket of madness.

“Hush now, Daisy,” she soothed. The dogs frantic barking turned into defeated whimpers and growls as they turned onto the main street of the town. Like that, the oppressive air that was nearly suffocating her lifted.

Were all small towns this… quirky?


	3. Takes One To Know One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odd discoveries, new figures, and welcoming phone calls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Song: Cold, Cold, Cold - Cage The Elephant

The fog came in that morning like a slow tide, intensifying with every inch the cold sun rose to. An overcast sky meant the earth was doomed to white and grays, previously brightly colored leaves losing their hues like they’d been drained.

Rook stood at her sink, gazing out the newly installed window with a cup of coffee warming her stiff fingers. Daisy enjoyed her time in the backyard despite the gloom, currently rolling around in something her owner hoped to be anything but a dead bird or mouse. She wouldn’t put it past the dog- though Daisy was more prone to dropping dead vermin at Rook’s feet rather than cover herself in the viscera. What a pain. Honestly, it was too early to give her a bath.

The pull of her bed was still as enticing as it had been an hour ago. Unfortunately, there were things to do, contractors to let in, dogs to let out… Why couldn’t the world just go by her schedule? She might actually get some sleep, for once.

But Rook didn’t have much longer to pout about it. There was going to be a knock on her door any minute now and she still wasn’t dressed.

It was just as she was pulling on old paint covered leggings that the barking started.

Sure, as every dog did, Daisy barked. Most often when she was upset with Rook and throwing a tantrum, but occasionally a squirrel will catch her interest. That being said, she never barked for long. Which is why when another five minutes of the racket passed, as the woman began to set up the paints and canvas on an easel she’d stuffed into a corner, Rook began to grow worried.

Another peek out the kitchen window told her nothing. Daisy was out of her line of sight, barking fairly distant like she was just past the tall trees that lined her backyard. The fog prevented visibility past the first couple of trunks, and the early sun’s rays were too dim to help with their cloudy filter.

Armed with just a flashlight, Rook stepped outside. It wasn’t cold enough to warrant a heavy winter coat but the thick woolen cardigan was hardly enough to keep the chill from settling into her bones. Dew damp grass tickled her ankles from where they were uncovered by her slippers, the stone path only getting her so far in the yard before she was forced onto the wet earth.

Her light caught the rolling fog as it shifted with the breeze but it failed to penetrate the thick air. “Daisy?” Called Rook as she stepped a foot past the trees. They groaned above her as the wind bullied them and ripped leaves from their branches. The barking never stopped, and she used the consistent noise to guide her through the fog. Worry chewed at her, skin prickling with the cold and anxiety, every crunch of the leaves beneath her feet rubbing her nerves raw as she searched.

Finally, with relief, she spotted a familiar furry rump just behind a bush to her right. “Daisy!” Rook rushed forward, intent on grabbing her harness to urge her back home when her foot caught something unyielding. It wasn’t soft earth she fell onto, not even hard roots. Instead, a loud hollow clang rang out as her knees slammed painfully into what was evidently… metal?

Hissing from scraped palms, bruised knees, and a hurt ankle, it took a moment to register the anomaly. “Careful!” Gasped the woman as her dog ran to her aid, crossing the entrance noisily to sniff at her. 

Rusted metal, it was, underneath dirt and moss. Her foot had caught in a… handle? The paint was yellow and chipped, partially bent like it’d been hammered to the side a couple of times. Gingerly, Rook removed herself from the precarious forest door, ushering Daisy with her.

A cellar? So far from the house? It seemed unlikely. Why had Adelaide not mentioned this in the listing?

Even the pain radiating from her foot could not stop from reaching to pull the door open. The woman could lift the heavy metal, barely, but it clanged angrily when she pulled against its lock. Huffing, Rook dropped the door, the noise echoing through the trees like war drums. "Spooky," she whispered. Daisy licked at her hand as she tried to wipe it on her pants. “You’re such a troublemaker, you know that?” Whatever the dog had been barking at no longer seemed to worry her, though a bribe of treats was still needed to get her back inside.

It was hours before she gave Adelaide a call. Rook had thought she waited a reasonable enough time, although it probably wasn’t reasonable enough given how groggily the real estate agent answered.

 _“A bunker entrance? No, ma’am, I wasn’t aware of any bunker on the property. Would’ve increased the price a fair bit more.”_ Confirmed Adelaide, still gracious despite it being so early.

“I can’t get it open. Are these things typically locked from the outside?” Rook glanced out her kitchen window to the tree line where their new discovery lay.

_“Lots of county residents like to keep valuables safe in their bunkers, so it’s possible. Never heard of Mrs. Jones’ doin’ any doomsayin’ but… Well, no one knew much about her so I can’t say for sure.”_

Rook held the phone between her shoulder and cheek as she began to prepare some tea, pulling her gaze from where it studied eagerly. “Any ideas on how to get it open, then?”

The older woman hummed, _“You could try getting in contact with Eli Palmer. He’s the one who installs all of the bunkers around here, most likely the one you’re sittin’ on as well.”_

“You got his number?”

_“Honey, who do you think you’re talkin’ to? I have the number of every eligible man in the county.”_

  
\--

The face looked familiar only if she squinted. Warped features, poor color choices, and piled on paint that would dry to an irreparable gummy finish deemed this attempt a failure. Another one, that is.

If Rook allowed the embarrassment and frustration to get to her, she was sure she would cry.

She wasn’t a beginner, had gotten a degree in Fine Arts even- for all _that_ was worth. It certainly never did her any good before. Jobless and now- as she was finding out- talentless. The only thing she had going for her and she let the rust coat over until it couldn’t even be called a skill, just a hobby. The face before her was almost mocking with its crooked smile. The joke was on them, really though, because at least _her_ face didn’t look like that.

The whole thing just really- “Kinda sucks, no offense!”

Full lips pursed, head turning slowly to stare at the carpenter peeking his head through a gaping hole in her wall. Bobby Wells was dumb as a rock, spoke before he thought most of the time, but he was hardly a threat. He’d been working on her windows for three days now, and she swore the man would hammer the same nail for an hour straight. He hadn’t been just the cheapest choice- he’d been the only choice for her. Every other carpenter she contacted had refused her after she gave them her address.

So much for gaining a helpful community.

At her upset look, he backtracked, “Better than the last one though! Uh, I mean, the last one had nice colors and all-”

Rook shook her head, “It’s fine Bobby,” though she really felt like anything but. The urge to throw a tantrum coursed through her veins like it’d been injected- but while getting momentary satisfaction from taking a knife to the canvas was a tempting thought indeed, she already felt like an ass. So instead, she grabbed her tea from where it sat to her side- cold from the wind filtering easily throughout the house- and stood to make a hasty retreat outside where she could mope in relative peace. Daisy jumped from her lazy position on the couch and followed close behind, the chew toy she’d been enjoying earlier flung in a forgotten heap on the floor. 

There was virtually no difference from the chill in the house to outside, which meant Rook was already dressed appropriately to battle the breeze that came to fight her once stepping foot onto her uneven front porch. The visibility had cleared up quite a bit from this morning, although the air kept a slight dewy haziness.

The dog took the opportunity to get all the attention she could when her owner sat on a creaky step, desperate for love after being ignored for some gross smelling goop. Rook sighed as she wrapped an arm around her sweet girl, giving her a brief kiss to the temple and barely dodging the slippery kiss the dog tried to give her in return.

They sat there for a while, Daisy laying down with her head on Rook’s knee. The tall moaning trees surrounding them slowly turned her brooding thoughts blank, whistles of wind in leaves only interrupted by general construction sounds and an occasional huff from the attention craving creature on her lap.

With the anxiety no longer fresh in her mind, her eyes shifted easily over to her neighbors.

Aside from the first night, there had been no sight of him. She told herself that was a good thing, that she wanted no part in whatever nefarious activities he liked to do in his spare time, but… Well, her mother always said she was too curious for her own good. The dead woman’s words would echo in her head sometimes after she’d catch herself ‘getting some fresh air’, all for the chance of a glimpse at whoever this mysterious Jacob Seed was.

She never did call up that deputy. Maybe she should have- still could, could do it right now in fact, but…

_“Well, it looks like everything is clear here. Bishop, why don’t you go inform the neighbors that the situation is under control?”_

_He said that despite her shaking, afraid and in shock, on the couch that had been kicked crooked in the middle of the room. There was no effort to check on her aside from the blinding flash of his light as it scanned over the sorry state of her. Dismissed then, just like that. How foolish was she to hope that they’d say something- that they’d take her away from here?_

_Brothers in arms until the very bitter end. She had no chance- not really. Not until-_

Daisy lifted her head, ear perked to listen to a noise Rook couldn’t yet hear. Faint still, the sounds of a purring engine and dirt crunching beneath tires only became noticeable after a moment of straining to listen.

It was with a small amount of surprise and a large amount of confusion that she watched a sleek black vehicle, certainly more expensive than her new home, roll slow into view. It was starkly out of place in the humble mountains, where functionality was far more important than form, and it looked even stranger still as it pulled into park next to her neighbors muddy old truck.

She tried not to stare so obviously as two men climbed from the car, dressed just as inappropriately for the setting. The driver, a man in a long textured coat, thankfully didn’t even spare her a glance as he turned to grab something from the backseat.

A briefcase, by the looks of it. The driver gripped it tightly as he pulled his passenger back by the arm when they came together at the hood of the car. He huddled towards him like he was speaking in a hushed tone, gesturing to the stack of papers in the other man's hands several times. They were too far to make out expressions, but based on the tense shoulders and shuffling feet, their conversation looked to be a serious one. Not a friendly visit, then?

Rook continued to spy, heart skipping a beat as they broke their huddle to approach her neighbors front door. Her hands began to feel clammy, despite the chill in the air, and she threaded her fingers through Daisy’s fur to calm her sudden anxiety. Surely he was not as deranged looking as she pictured sometimes, not with Adelaide's raving review... but still, she couldn’t help but expect the likes of Jason Voorhees to answer- theatrical mask and all.

Just as the door opened a crack, a loud siren-like ring startled the woman right out of her skin. Gasping, a hand to her chest, she whirled her head back towards her house. _That stupid-!_

She snapped her head back to her neighbors, only to catch the man in the long coat shut the door behind him. No Jason Voorhees in sight.

The woman slumped, sighing as she reached up to cradle her temple. She was acting ridiculous.

“Miss Rook! Your phone is ringin’!” Came a loud reminder from the side of her house.

Daisy took off into the yard when she forced herself to her feet. “I hear it, Bobby, thank you!”

The young portly man shot her a thumbs up as she strode back through the house, though she doubted he heard her at all with his unwieldy ear muffs.

The old phone that came with the house had a ring so piercing, Rook briefly worried it would shatter her newly installed windows. She’d found it stuffed in one of the top kitchen cabinets after following its cord to where it hung dangerously over the stove, the volume buttons mysteriously peeled off. Now it sat openly on one of the counters, ugly and yellowed but the woman had at least taped the cords out of the way.

“Hello?” Rook answered, slightly out of breath. The first time she’d gotten a call on this thing, she half expected to hear a demonic voice telling her to ‘leave or else’.

Like then, the actual voice that came through was nothing of the sort. _"Hi_ _there! Is this Quinn Brier Rook?”_

Said woman winced at the use of her full name.“That’s me. May I ask who’s calling?”

 _“My name is Kim Rye- I write the county paper down here in the valley.”_ The woman kept her voice light and airy but a hint of nervousness bled through. _“I know this might be an invasion of privacy, but I was speaking with Adelaide Drubman_ _about you and she said you might be willing to give an interview?”_

Rook’s raised a brow, though Kim wasn’t here to see her incredulity. Lots of questions popped into mind but, “This county has it’s own paper?” Kind of just slipped out.

Thankfully, Kim laughed instead of getting offended. _"I get that a lot. It’s actually doing very well despite the low population! Although distribution is a nightmare…”_ She trailed off. _“It might also surprise you to hear that a lot of Hope County residents are major busybodies.”_

Rook chuckled as she turned to lean a hip against the counter, catching Bobby’s curious gaze before he hastily looked away and began his work once more. “It doesn’t, actually. I hope you’re not planning on airing my dirty laundry?”

_“Trying to save you from the gossip mill, more like. Unfortunately, It’s a favorite past time of some of the older residents around here. You keep yourself shrouded in mystery and they’ll start whispering that you dance naked in the moonlight in your spare time.”_

It was said so casually, an admission of the fact that everyone here seemed to know her- or at least of her. Why? How? Either Adelaide had the biggest mouth on the planet or the people here were connected to a scary degree. At least, it was scary to her, having arrived from a place where no one knew each other and liked it that way. “Seems like I have a lot to learn about small towns. To be honest with you, though, I haven’t really been here long enough to form an opinion.”

_“There’s no pressure to do anything right away, or at all really. The process is very simple, just a couple of questions over a beer or lunch about your thoughts on the county, the local businesses, basic things like that. Nothing is published without your consent if you decide to go through with it.”_

She ran a tongue over smooth teeth, pausing just long enough to keep the other woman from wondering if she’d hung up. “I’ll have to think about it… Give me some time to get more acquainted with the place, maybe a couple of weeks? You’ll know my answer by then.”

_“Sounds very reasonable! Do you have a pen and paper handy to write my number down?”_

“Yeeees…?” She said as if she were questioning herself, Bobby’s inconsiderate hammering distracting her for a moment. Thankfully there was a sharpie she used to mark boxes on the counter and her grocery receipt crumpled in some balled up plastic bags.

With a go-ahead, Kim rattled off her number and pleasantly said her goodbyes. It surprised Rook how genuine her own response was when as she returned the heartfelt well wishes. She seemed like a nice gal, despite her occupation’s shady reputation. Maybe there was hope for her social life yet.

And in a town full of busybodies? Well, she’ll fit right in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progress, I guess. Meet cute with Jacob is next! And don't worry, I'll never let Daisy get hurt :^)

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr is http://alchemymerchant.tumblr.com/ if you want to yell at me.


End file.
